


Reaching the Crossfire

by LucyWonderLandMadness



Series: Harry Potter WIP [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Aster Verbena becomes Aster Verbena Evans, Aster gets sent to the past, Aster is a Peverell, Bad Dumbledore, Character Death, Child Abuse, Child Starvation, Dumbledore Bashing, Dumbledore is evil, Emotional Manipulation, Evil Dumbledore, F/M, Grindelwald War, Harry Potter is Aster Verbena Potter, Manipulation, Mind Manipulation, Poor Life Choices, The Hallows are attach to Aster, time-travel, unknown spells
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-03-20 17:44:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13722807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucyWonderLandMadness/pseuds/LucyWonderLandMadness
Summary: She didn’t get the chances to savor the defeat of one Lord Voldemort before she is at wand point being cast a spell she didn’t recognize by the man she thought as a grandfather. Waking up in the past, she flounders what to do before she ultimately decides to put her luck with the enemy. [Fem!Harry Potter x Tom Riddle]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I swear, I’m working on The Arts of Potions and Spells, but I couldn’t resist typing this. I do hope you all enjoy this. I promise the next chapter for my other stories are being worked on and should be up sometime later today.

She feels the drop of rain fall on her shoulders, her hair sticking against her skin as she let out a long sigh. The man that has hunted her all this time lays on the dirty floor, wand out of reach, chest not moving at all.

The Dark Lord known as Lord Voldemort is dead by her hand, The-Girl-Who-Lived, Aster Verbena Potter, but somehow the defeat of the so-called Dark Lord doesn’t sit right with the raven-haired woman.

She has learned to trust her gut feeling, though sometimes she had ignored them because even if she was weary – she had to follow through because it was what it was expected of her to do. What people who weren’t the Chosen Ones, the Savior, the bloody Girl-Who-Lived, expected from her to do.

But the feeling of dread, the feeling of weariness around her surroundings started to nag in the back of her mind as she held tightly onto her wand.

“Aster,” It the familiar voice that brought her to pinpoint the location of all the weariness she felt. Professor Dumbledore stood in all his glory, wearing a light blue cloak, shimmering under the small number of light beams falling through the broken ceiling. “My dear girl,” He continued in his grandfatherly tone Aster remembers.

“Professor Dumbledore,” She whispers, as she stares at the man who she thought had died. The man she watched get killed by the unforgivable and fell down the astronomy tower. “But… but how?” She asked weakly. Tears building up behind her glasses as she watched the man approach her, ignore the dead man.

“There are many things that you don’t know my child,” The elderly man began, his blue eyes glittered behind his half-moon specs as he reached a stop in front of the nineteen-year-old. “I do admit, the war took far much longer than necessary, but it has finally come to an end, a rather quiet end if I do say so myself.”

Aster swallowed nervously as she stared at the man she thought to be dead since she was sixteen-years-old. The weariness and danger sense ringing rather loudly as she only stood frozen, unable to move or make a twitch.

“However, no matter how much I would like to thank you for saving the Wizarding World from the clutches of a madman, I do have to apologize for what will be happening next,” Dumbledore continued, as he twisted around to stare at the body of Voldemort, stroking his long beard.

“Sir?” She softly questions, watching the man hummed to himself.

“ _Vita ante acta,”_ Dumbledore began, flicking out the wand and pointing it to Aster, “ _tiempus volat, hora fugit,”_ A soft light began to glow and Aster tried to move, but something held her back, held her in place at wand point. “Professor, what’s going on?” She asked, her voice breaking as the tears leaked down her face. “ _Vive memor leti.”_

It’s the final words that Aster began to feel a pull, feeling cold rush her body as her green eyes stared at Dumbledore with hurt and betrayed.

“I’m sorry my dear girl, but for the greater good, you must disappear. To die in the great battle between yourself and the Dark Lord.” The elderly man stated, placing the wand away as he smiled at her, his blue eyes glittered with something else besides the grandfatherly twinkling he usually holds. “The Girl-Who-Lived dies fighting the Dark Lord, for only to have the great Albus Dumbledore come out from his hiding behind the ranks of the Order of Phoenix to help rebuild the Wizarding World. I dare say, that is a wonderful way to end a war, don’t you say my dear girl?”

Aster couldn’t respond, only letting soft whimpers of pain escape her dry lips as she fell to her knees. Her body becoming heavy and cold.

“A great spell I found in one of the old tomes back in my earlier days, a spell that causes the person to slowly have its body disappear in a day – slowly dying but also they are alive to hear that everything is going on around them, or so what it is supposed to do, but it still ends with you dying. So, don’t worry Aster, everybody will be able to say goodbye before you totally die.”

 _‘Why?’_ Aster thinks, her thoughts muddled with heavy pain and betrayal as she tries to speak, but she’s too tired, filled with pain and the fog slowly began to consume her mind as she laid in the floor, her eyesight slowly fading away.

* * *

 

_“Dumbledore! You’re alive!”_

_“Aster! Wake up! Don’t you be dead!”_

_“Hermione, she isn’t going to be waking up anytime soon.”_

_“No! You can’t die, not after you promise to come back alive!”_

_“My dear girl, Aster died fighting strong, she died protecting all of the Wizarding World. There is nothing we can do but rebuild our broken world back to the way it should be.”_

_“Aster Verbena Potter, The- Girl- Who- Lived, The Savior, the Chosen One, died while she fought and killed the Dark Lord. We all have her to thank as we build our lives back, we will remember her for the person who saves us all and helped me behind the scenes to defeat the madman we hid from. It is a sad day as we all stand here to mourn for all those who we lost.  But fret not, for they will always have a place in our hearts.”_

* * *

 

Aster blinked her eyes as she stared at the patch of dirt that surrounded her before she slowly sat up. She could hear loud explosion all around her, screams of desperate women, children’s cries for help.

The raven-haired female sat on the ground as she allowed her senses to come back. Her green eyes drank her surroundings as she watched men throw curses back forth, women ran away from the scenes as they held tightly onto the crying children. Fires roared loudly as the building was set on fire, smoke rising into the sky, covering the already dark sky. The smell of burnt flesh filled Aster’s nostrils as she slowly got up.

Stumbling around, lost and filled with confusion, disoriented, the girl screamed loudly before she took out her wand and began fighting against the men that started attacking unarmed women in children.

It isn’t until the screams slowly die off, the shouts of retreat from the enemy side, that Aster struggles to continue to stand. Her sight slowly fading as she could feel exhaustion settle in her bones.

She blacks out when her body hits the floor, ignoring the cries to hang in there. That everything will be okay. In the back of her mind, Aster knows, that nothing is okay.

She wakes up once more to the smell of antiseptic and sweet flowers. The bed under her is thin and uncomfortable, the sheet covering her feels heavy, but holds no warmth to it.

Groaning at a headache pounding against her skull, Aster tries to move but gets tutted and pushed back down. “Now where are you going, little girl? You took a lot of damage and inhale a tone of smoke, you should be resting up.” The curt voice of woman stated as she messed around the room.

“What’s going on?” Aster slurred, trying to blink away the sleepiness away from her sight and tried to take in the room around her. “Where am I?” She asked.

The voice came from an elderly lady dressed in the mediwitch uniform she got used to seeing throughout the war.

“What’s going on young lady, is that you will be giving me your name so I can put it on the list of survivors that got found in the village that got attacked,” The mediwitch stated, looking through the clipboard in her hands.

“Village? Survivors?” Aster asked in confusion. Unsure what was going on, why she was lying in a hospital bed when she was… when she was talking to Dumbledore.

“Don’t you remember dearie? Your village got attacked by Grindelwald’s men or believer’s, whatever they are called now these days.”

Aster blinked her eyes, she has heard about Grindelwald, one of the Dark Lords that began to start power in Germany before he began spreading all over Europe. His propaganda of killing off all muggles, history theorized that the man controlled one of the dictators that began World War Two.

But that was impossible.

Aster wasn’t even alive at the time, she shouldn’t be exiting at all because her parents aren’t even born yet.

“Dearie?” The nurse questioned as she came to look at Aster with concern, shaking her head she stuttered that her head was hurting more and she was feeling nauseous.

“I’ll go search for some potions to help alleviate that, then we will begin out questioning and check-up.” The mediwitch stated, placing the clipboard on the head of her bed, moving around the curtains that separated her from the other patients.

Aster sat there before she moved to grab the clipboard.

**Date: June 20, 1941**

**Name: Unknown**

**Age: Unknown**

**Birthdate: Unknown**

**Injury: Magical exhaustion, malnutrition, dehydrated, several wounds on patient’s body**

**Causes of injuries: Patient was rescued by Aurors who got sent to protect a small village that was under attack by Grindelwald’s followers. The patient got found falling to the ground, exhausted with a wand held tightly as she guarded a small child against an adult wizard.**

Aster was even more confused.

The last bits of memories were of her and Dumbledore, the man who she thought to be dead, was alive and had killed her off by chanting a spell she didn’t know. She knew she was supposed to be dead, she heard the speeches of victory, speeches of mourning, heard the cries of her friends and the shouts of celebrations, of victory.

However, the fury she held for the man she considered as a grandfather boiled hot in her stomach as tears gathered, but refused to fall.

“ _Fool, following Dumbledore like a little soldier you are, that’ll be your death, Potter.”_ She can remember Riddle’s words ringing as the events continued to repeat themselves in her mind.

Riddle was right, the man she followed was her death.

* * *

 

Aster is a no one in this timeline.  She’s no longer in her nineteen-year-old body, but instead of a fourteen soon to be fifteen-year-old.

Recently released from St. Mungos, Aster sat outside the hospital, watching the muggles walk through their everyday lives. Trying to live their lives as normal as they could with the war waging miles away from them.

Tired and weary, she tried to think of anything that she could possibly do, however; her thoughts returned to the man that betrayed her. Back to the home, she misses, along with the people that didn’t question the man that apparently wasn’t dead. That seemed to be happy to move on with their lives as she heard them mourn for all that died in the war, that all thought she had died at the end of the war.

But she isn’t dead.

And her only home, the only home she could return is Hogwarts.

With only her wand the shrunken trunk she carried with her at her death, Aster’s only hope of trying to figure out what to do is to return to Hogwarts and face her betrayer.

* * *

 

It’s on their third day of classes that Tom gets pulled called to go to the office of Professor Dippet. Unsure why he was being called, the boy made his way out of charms class, packing his belongings and apologizing to the professor. He made his way to see why he was being called for.

 When he reached the office, he knocked on the door and opened it when a voice called him to enter. Sitting at his table, Dippet welcomed him with a smile.

“Mr. Riddle, just the person I was waiting for,” The man stated, motioning for him to come in. Tom entered the room, moving towards the empty chair. The chair beside him already occupied.

“Miss. Evans, I would like to introduce you, Mr. Riddle, he’s this fifth-year prefect for the house you’ll be joining,” Professor Dippet informed, looking at the girl, Evans, as he introduced him.

“Mr. Riddle, this here is Aster Evans, she wasn’t able to make it to the opening ceremony; however, she’ll be joining you in the house of Slytherin, I do hope you’ll make her feel welcome.”

Tom nodded his head and put a welcoming smile he gave the first-years.

“Welcome, Miss. Evans, a pleasure to meet you,” Tom said as he twisted to see the female sitting beside him.

Evans stared at him with bright green eyes hidden behind round specs, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail before she nodded her head. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Riddle,” She stated, her voice low and husky. Nothing compared to the silky and soothing voices of the pureblood girls he knows.

“Well then, I’ll let Mr. Riddle get you all settle and if you need anything, Miss. Evans, please find me or our Deputy Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore.” Professor Dippet stated, smiling at the girl. Evans nodded her hid, trying to anger at the mention of Dumbledore’s name and that gain Tom’s interest.

“Now then,” Tom began as he walked next to the female who was shorter than he was, “Welcome to Hogwarts, hopefully, we can be friends.” He stated, staring into the bright green eyes that only harden as she stared at him with weariness before she allowed a small nod. ‘Oh, what interesting year it’ll be.’ Tom thought as he leads the girl to their common room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse to why I haven't been updating. But I assure you guys that I am working on my stories! Either way please enjoy!

 

Everyone is still asleep, and Aster knows she won’t be able to fall asleep, only three more hours left before she must get ready to start the school day.

 

With a shaky breath, Aster wraps the covers around her tightly, trying to suffocate herself. Trying to erase the memories that continued to repeat themselves. Still, she could smell the wet forest ground, feel the light drizzle of the rain hitting her skin and the sunlight beams peaking through the clouded sky. Bringing in some happiness, but happiness wasn’t something that lasted long in Aster’s life.

 

It’s the unknown wand that is pointed at her, the foreign words chanting a spell she has no knowledge of and the familiar man dressed in the robes she had lost saw him as they buried him in the ground of Hogwarts. Telling him their last goodbye before she began her mission to bring down Voldemort.

 

_“Dumbledore will be your death, Potter,”_

The words repeated themselves like a broken record as she continues to watch the painful memory of Dumbledore _killing_ her off; however, something went wrong.

 

She isn’t dead. She’s alive. Very alive with a beating pulse and air filling up her lungs. Alive with her own memories and thoughts. Alive with her magic still humming under her skin, ready for her to use.

 

And the seething hot of anger boiling inside her, it is a reminder of her being where she is at and whose fault it was that she’s there in the first place.

 

Running her hand through her locks, Aster decided to stand up from her bed and head to the bathroom, no longer able to stand sitting in her new bed, feeling pitiful and angry.

 

It’s the bloodshot eyes hidden behind the round spec that is staring right back her, her messy black hair seems lifeless and hung dead past her shoulders.

 

Aster Potter isn’t alive. Aster Potter has no reason to continue to exist in a world where she is a no one. In a world where the people she held close to her heart are no longer there by her side. Where her family she created through bonds wouldn’t even recognize her, they wouldn’t be sharing the bonds they have created through laughter, tears, blood, and sweat. She isn’t the roaring lion in red and gold, fighting for the light and following Dumbledore’s orders.

 

Aster knew she got a major opportunity to change the future; however, Hermione ‘s stern tone about bad things happening to wizards who messed with time constantly repeated in the back of her mind. Yet, here Aster stood, in 1941, starting three days late in Hogwarts and being freshly sorted in the house of snakes.

 

Try as she might, she couldn’t remember seeing herself in the past when she viewed all of Riddle’s memories. For all she knew, her own timeline isn’t the same timeline she’s in now.

With a shaky breath, Aster transfigured her hairbrush into scissors before grabbing a handful of black hair. Staring at her hair, it shows how upset she is, hesitating in bringing the scissors near the locks. Aster wonders if she has finally gone mad.

Her long hair is the constant reminder that she can be feminine, that no matter how much the Dursley tried to take her femininity – her long hair would always remind her she is a normal girl like the rest of her classmates. No matter the oversized boy clothes that she had to wear. Her long her also grew to recognize that no matter how much she looked like her father, she inherited her mother’s other traits besides the unique colored green eyes. The long black locks that cascade down her back also has memories of her sitting with Sirius, the man brushing her hair as he retold her the old stories of her father’s and their friend’s adventures.

As she stared at the mirror, hesitating with the scissors and a handful of black locks. Aster isn’t sure why she’s so willingly wanting to cut her hair. However, the longer she continues to stare in the mirror it’s the dawning realization that the Aster she is seeing will never be the same. It’s the heavy sorrow, and hot anger that she blames Dumbledore for the position she’s in. Swallowing a sob, Aster clips off a large amount of black hair.

Letting the hair slowly fall out of her hand she feels something inside her shift. It’s the heated anger, the heavy sadness echoing inside her chest that lets herself cry. It’s with blurry tears she continues to cut her hair, trying to even out the locks.

Coming to a stop, her wavy hair stopped right at her chin. Slowly placing the transfigured scissors on the sink, Aster hesitates as she makes a grab to the round glasses. The only glasses she’s worn, broken, taped together and spelled together, the round glasses showing another Potter trait. Her father, the man she wished she knew but also wished to not know the man of what he was before her mother came into the picture.

Taking the glasses off her face, she expects her vision to become a blur like it has always happen when her glasses were taken away or knocked off from her face.

Yet, it didn’t happen, and it made Aster realize how much coming into the past has changed her.

Staring clearly at the mirror with her own eyes, with no assistance from the glasses she’s known all her life, she sees a stranger. A stranger whose went through so much, confused and floundering what her next step would be. Hoping to find a home in Hogwarts just like she found one when she first entered when she was once elven-years-old.

Aster Evans stood in the place of Aster Potter, which was probably the best for the time. She has no idea if she could go back and with how everything went down, it probably is best to just stay where she is and try her hand in the past.

See what changes she can bring forth and maybe, maybe she could have a better future than what she expected.

* * *

 

She takes her words back; her future may not exist. Not with the way Riddle seemed to be very keen in keeping an eye on her.

“Evans, I would like to introduce you to some of my acquaintances,” Riddle’s word flowed out of his mouth like smooth butter, refined and rich. If it was not Aster, she may have felt sorry for anyone that Riddle took a deep interest in.

But for some unfortunate reason, Riddle seemed to be enjoying Aster’s displeasure in interrupting her quiet life in hopes to gather her into his own circle for unknown reasons.

It has only been a few days since the Headmaster introduced both, and in those few days, Aster made sure to ask question that new students would like to ask about where they would be spending majority of their lives in and how things worked around before deciding that she would be okay by herself and detach herself of Riddle.

But that did not seem to deter Riddle from still trying to approach her. Making Aster curse the Potter luck because no matter how much she wishes to tell off Riddle, she knew the teen has connections and could very well make the rest of the years in Hogwarts hell.

Because she damn well knew that she wasn’t getting bullied as much as she thought she would be for having gone with her mother’s maiden name. She knew the purebloods would have sneered and verbally assault her by the time she steps a foot anywhere near the Slytherin common room.

Aster politely smiled at the group of boys standing not far from Riddle as the teen made his presence known in front of her small clutter of books.

“Ah, Riddle, I wasn’t expecting any company at the moment,” She began, closing her book and push a strand of her hair behind her ear and sitting up straight to see Riddle in the eye.

“Sorry for the inconvenience, however; I know you are always occupied and sometimes hard to find you,” Riddle said pleasantly, pointing to the fact that Riddle has trouble finding her when she isn’t in places student tend to congregate together, making the teen agitated that someone knows better hiding places than he did.

“Ah,” Aster opted to say, unsure how to feel that Riddle hasn’t found the come and go room or that she is able to make the male more agitated than most people would want the teen to become. The girl isn’t even sure that it is even a good idea to get on his bad side seeing as the only other person right now on her list is Dumbledore. Aster knows she wouldn’t be able to handle having a Dark Lord and Dumbledore at the same time.

With her two months free in trying to regain her strength again and scouting information in the year, she has been sent to, Aster knows that her plans aren’t very well formed and the ideas she has for her revenge will take longer to plan.  Especially with what the date is, all her future information she has known about Dumbledore won’t be worth much at the time being.

But with three certain items she has in her possession, she knows Grindelwald will be hitting it hard in trying to find the missing wand. She has also heard rumors of someone stealing the Potter’s invisible cloak and they are out for blood trying to find the person who took the family heirloom.

Yet, she hasn’t heard anything about the Gaunts making a racket about their own missing heirloom, but it is possible that they might still be held in Azkaban. She isn’t sure with that; however, she has made precautions to have the items hidden in her trunk that no-one will be able to access it unless she tunes in their magic and blood into the wards she had painstakingly made.

She knows Dumbledore would kill to have all the Deathly Hallows who seemed to have become very attached to her much her disinterest in the bloody artifacts. With some possible ideas forming, Aster is becoming to believe that with a certain title she doesn’t want to think about as well having the goblins confirm a certain last name. She knows will only paint a target on her back for the power she apparently holds.

Taking a good look at the teen in front of her she decides that maybe, maybe it would be a good idea in having him on the same side that will bring Dumbledore.

But deep down she knows she’ll never be like the fools who bow down to a madman, kissing the hem of their robes. Which will cause problems in the future Aster doesn’t tread carefully with Riddle.

“Well, you have my attention now,” Aster slowly says, pushing the books to the side and gives Riddle all her attention, which seems to please the teen in front of her.

Pulling the seat in front of her, Riddle motions for the rest of the teenagers to come forward and take their place around the brunet.

“I’m glad we are able to converse, you seem like someone worthy of having around,” Riddle began, looking at the books she has gathered. “I would like to introduce you to Heir Orion Black,” The teen being introduced nodded his head and continued to observe her. Aster nodded back, unsure how to feel about having the teen who is the father of the one person she had the closest thing as a family. Their similarities would cause problems for her, knowing she’ll have to work hard to not mistake the future Lord Black for Sirius.

“Heir Abraxas Malfoy,” The blond teen sitting next to Riddle only just glance at her before turning his attention back to the book. Aster knew that look very well with how many times she has gotten into petty fights with Draco Malfoy. Ignoring his attitude, she turns to the next teen that seems ready to introduce himself. “Heir Augustus Rosier,” chestnut hair waved at her, making sure not to interrupt Riddle’s introductions.

“Heir Ranulphus Lestrange, Heir Darius Nott, Heir Barnabas Mulciber.” The rest of the heirs only seemed to keep their eyes on her, trying to figure out why Riddle seemed to be going out of his way for a girl whose name is Muggleborn, but they all knew not to question the teen with whatever idea the teen started to brew.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Aster said softly, “Of course you all might already know me, but my name is Aster Evans,” and before she could even finish her sentence. Rosier decides to interrupt her.

“Your last name isn’t Evans,” the chestnut teen mused, a gleeful smile on his face as Aster narrowed her green eyes at the teen. This was something she wasn’t expecting and having Rosier all but blurt out something she is desperately trying to hide from everyone until she was on her way out of Hogwarts.

And one of the people she didn’t want to find out is sitting right across from her with narrowed blue eyes.

Bloody hell.  

 

 


End file.
